


World Citizens 1/2

by SleazyJeezy



Series: World Citizens [2]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Drama, Eventual Smut, Human Experimentation, M/M, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Molestation, Slow Build, Titans, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-01
Updated: 2015-09-29
Packaged: 2018-01-21 10:56:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1548149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SleazyJeezy/pseuds/SleazyJeezy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a mini-series that goes alongside the main series, World Citizens. It gives insight into other character POV's as the story progresses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hope and Happiness

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter is best read between chapters 2 and 3 of World Citizens, and runs alongside chapter 1 and 2 from Michael's POV.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael's version of chapters one and two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please be sure to have read the first and even second chapter of the main story, [ found here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1486378/chapters/3137068).

**Hope and Happiness**  
  


_Michael_

  
I walk lazily beside Trill, as we slowly approach a small lake. It has been days since our last drink of water and she leans on me appreciatively. I fill my makeshift  
canteen and we move on quickly.

  
Newly refreshed, she moves steady and I feel more comfortable riding on her back. We wander for what must have been hours, forever heading northwards. We rest when the sun is at it’s highest, and take shelter from the heat. _Don’t stay in one place. Keep moving._

  
We do.

  
The simple rules that have kept us alive all of this time… forever ringing in my head.

_  
EVERYTHING FEELS LIKE FOREVER._

  
How long until I lose myself? _Maybe you already have._

  
Being only one person atop a horse, it is quite easy to avoid the Titans. In the times where I am lax and allow one to pursue us, it is never difficult to outrun them. Trill doesn’t move as fast as she once did, but we have grown so accustomed to the routine that it hardly matters. I have made through today without use for the old swords at my side.

  
There comes a moment where I realize we have been travelling in the open for quite a while. Although I enjoy the freedom of movement, I know that we need to seek the cover of a forest. I notice a patch of sparse trees a few miles into the distance and deem it well enough. I urge Trill to move faster.

  
I hear a loud noise in the distance, sounding a great deal like a crack of thunder. I pay it no mind, but am soon curious as I hear a second _crack_ not minutes later. I take the sounds as a warning signal, all of my instincts telling me to _keep moving. Never stop moving._

  
I am so absorbed in my thoughts that I do not notice the distant sound of hooves behind me. As they grow closer, I convince myself I am only hearing Trill’s quickened pace. Then, I hear a _voice._ I turn my head and surely, it cannot be true, but there is a _man_ there, and he is chasing me. I make out the word _STOP_ and thought I was already slowing, I take the command and _worship_ it, stopping as promptly as a horse’s coordination allows.

 _  
Maybe that wasn’t the best idea_. His face is a portrait of complete shock and even a bit of fear. I have no time to laugh _at_ him, but I am _laughing._ Before I know what I am doing, I am grasping him as if my life depended on feeling his touch. I am overcome with emotion and in that moment I feel very _never leave me I need you I can’t believe you’re really here_. My excitement boils over and I rock us to and fro until we fall.

  
With a gasp, I realize that I am saying these embarrassing things aloud and loosen my grip. The man gasps and coughs, and I again realize my place. I have been choking him and quickly move to release him, apologizing profusely. The look on his face tells me he hasn’t heard a word I have said, and though I am relieved it is a bit heartbreaking to realize how out of touch I was feeling. It was that moment that I knew; I no longer knew how to speak to anything but horses and Titans.

  
He isn’t responding so I attempt to snap him to reality. I feel _terrible_. I can’t stop blabbering and am positive I’ve made a fool of myself. Before I know it, I have spilled more than I intended and somehow he has pegged me as an enemy. For a moment I am content to die by his sword, and then I remember a promise. _My promise_.

  
Mustering all of the calm I can, I talk his sword down. My heart is racing but I make out a few words over the loud rhythm.

  
“Come with me.”

_  
Please take me with you I don’t want to be alone anymore What can I do I will do anything. For you._

  
“Come with you? Where!?” Suddenly, I am terrified. Not only at the prospect of being some kind of prisoner but also at my willingness to follow him _anywhere_. I blame these shitty feelings on nothing more than loneliness and wave it aside. He is a good man. With just a few simple words he has convinced me of that, and I can tell that he does not want to see any one shed unnecessary blood. We have that in common.

  
I follow him, I learn his name is Levi. I am surprised to find that even his name is perfect in my thoughts, cradled neatly between the fear and the anger like something I once felt, _long_ ago. _Happiness._

  
-

  
I knew right away that he was a soldier. I had no idea that this ‘plan’ of his meant masking as a soldier as well. I guess anything is better than _War Criminal._ The sight of dead bodies calls forth a carriage of memories I had long since burned. The ghosts of faces and screams playd quietly along the wind as Levi makes small talk, seemingly unfazed by the scene before us.

  
The complicated uniform is nothing like the clothing I am accustomed to. I try to recall some memories from my previous life that could help me here, but I draw blanks. The uniform I once adorned proudly had never served me well, and it wasn’t helping now. Levi shifts to give me some assistance, and _shit is that it was always like to be so close to someone_?

  
Three long years without hearing another voice. Three years without the warmth of a human. Trill was great in all, but not exactly my _type._ I’m surprised I even still _have_ a type, and I have to hold my breath to keep myself from saying anything embarrassing. When he notices, I say something embarrassing regardless and we have to move on in an awkward silence.

  
I ride a few paces behind him, knowing that I never want to be anywhere else but with him for as long as I live.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pick up right where you left off either in [chapter two](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1486378/chapters/3137122), or [chapter three](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1486378/chapters/3208907).


	2. Witness Protection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A companion piece written to coincide with Chapter 6 of World Citizens.
> 
> Levi adjusts to his new routine with Michael, and argues with those strange feelings nagging at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a companion piece written to coincide with Chapter 6 of World Citizens (titled 'Counting Down'). You can read the original story/chapter [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1486378).

**Witness Protection**

 

_Levi_

 

Sitting in the mess hall is probably one of the most nerve-wracking things I can think of. It’s loud, smelly, and disgusting. Despite actually sleeping the night before, I still found myself waking early with circles around my eyes. After a brief workout and shower, I’ve met with Hanji for breakfast. Much to my dismay.

 

“Seems like word’s finally getting around about your little adventure among the ranks! The mood is pretty light considering our expedition was an utter failure.” Hanji’s forehead meets the table with a thud, causing the trays to clatter. “I couldn’t find out anything new at aaaalllll!” Two large, lanky fists slap down on either side of the full tray.

 

“Shut up and eat.” I take a few bites of stew and sip at my tea while Hanji groans and makes a pitiful display for the onlookers.

 

“But, Levi! It’s been _ages_ since we got any new information. Hey, hey! Let’s go back out! Soon! Next week! Tomorrow!?” When Hanji stands excitedly, the now-empty chair scrapes the floor with a terrible sound.

 

I shoot a death glare across the table and Hanji slowly sits back down. “We have no control over expeditions, you know that. You can’t forget, I hope, that most of our ranks are still recovering. It will be weeks before some of them can ride a horse. Until then, we are stuck in these temporary Headquarters, and most certainly not fighting any Titans.” Hanji sighs loudly and resigns to eating the mess of food atop the plate.

 

I use the moment’s distraction to glance around the room. The rows and rows of tables are full of men and women chatting excitedly, but my eyes land easily on a lone figure sitting at an otherwise empty table. Michael. Just as I spot him, another man approaches and sits across from him. _He’s making friends already?!_ I sip at my tea and allow only a few sidelong glances here and there. When I see Michael stand and leave only to come back a moment later, I’m a little disgruntled. The thought of inviting him to my table hadn’t crossed my mind considering we weren’t supposed to really be _friends_ , but I had an annoying curiosity as to what they were talking about. His head swivels around the room and I avert my gaze to my tea, suddenly _very_ interested in the amber colors. When I glance back, he’s engaging again in conversation with the man. He must not have seen me.

 

Hanji has finished the enormous amount of food in a matter of minutes, and so we take our leave. As I exit the mess hall, I note with annoyance that Michael is still occupied at his table. Hanji splits off in the hallway for the usual post-breakfast shower. Accustomed to this strange routine, I just move along back to my own quarters.

 

I spend the day preparing choice materials for that evening, inwardly happy with the legitimate excuse to think of Michael more often than I should; thought denying it to myself all the while. I draft up a few letters to various underground contacts, and send them out immediately and discreetly. I have five days to get things prepared for the trainee induction ceremony.

 

When night comes around, Michael taps on my door in the usual tentative fashion. Seeing him again reminds me of the morning, and I’m a little too tense as I lecture him. I’m certain that my voice is overbearing and I’ve been speaking quickly, but he doesn’t seem to mind and nods along as I go. I brief him on his schedule for the next few days. I’ve chosen a task he should be able to do without incident; laundry duty. “In the afternoons is lunch and free time. There’s a training room on the first floor at the end of the south corridor, feel free to use it when you have time. You’ll attend dinner, then evening cleaning duties. After those are finished, come here without anyone seeing you just as you have been.” He nods but doesn’t offer any words. I stand throughout the entire session, unable to relax and sit. When time is up, Michael seems distracted and hardly notices it when I say, “Goodnight, Misha.” As I had the night before. I’m disappointed in his lack of response.

 

Why, though?

 

Why does it bother me that some random guy I’ve only just met hardly pays me any mind? Do I really care so much if he makes another friend? Of course I care, he’s not supposed to stand out! But even as I rationalize it in my head, I know that’s not truly the reason I’m annoyed. Again, I sleep terribly that night.

 

The next morning goes by as usual. Hanji makes a fuss and we part ways after breakfast. I spot Michael sitting with his new _friend_ again, and I watch as they leave together as well. Again, he doesn’t notice me at all. I glare at every soldier who passes me on the way to my room, certain a few of them have pissed themselves after I’ve gone.

 

There’s a letter waiting for me on my desk, and I open it. It’s a reply from one of my contacts.

 

_Levi,_

_I haven’t heard from you in two years, and this is what I get? I expect nothing less from you, in the end. I’ve looked into your request and it should be possible. I won’t ask what you need it for, I know better than that, but be careful. This is risky business you’re playing with. I’ll have the requested things to you within the time limit. Next time, try and at least ask how the kids are doing, eh?_

_X_

 

I scoff at the writing. At least he’s discreet. I burn the letter anyway, letting it fall into the trash bin. Having pre-prepared all of tonight’s materials, I get to work on my _actual_ assignments, which keep me busy until afternoon. The lunch bell sounds, and I wash my hands twice before eating alone. I don’t see Michael. Not that I’m looking. I try to find something else to think about and all that comes to mind is the dirt under my fingernails and when the last time this table was washed could have been. There’s a small group at the table next to me; three men and a woman I recognize from another squad. Their voices are loud and animated.

 

“What’s with that one guy anyway? He’s creepy as shit ‘f you ask me.” One of the men says with an ugly sneer. He’s tall, with blonde cropped hair. If I had to guess, he looks to be the oldest.

 

“Why? What happened?” The woman chimes in.

 

This time, a shorter man with plump cheeks answers through a mouthful of food. “That’s right! You wouldn’t know, Nila, since your barracks are in the other building.”

 

“Yeah, well, who’s creepy?”

 

“He’s talking about that guy Michael. Your bunk is right next to his, right?” A totally plain looking guy chimes in; pointing his fork at the older man.

 

Ugly-Shit nods his head. “Yeah. That day he came back from the expedition with-“ he glances around and lowers his voice; I look as inconspicuous as possible. “With the heichou. He was acting like he didn’t know a damn thing, and that night he didn’t sleep at all. I thought it was probably just nerves, but then the next night he did the same. He just sat on top of his bed and stared at the wall all night. Never even moved the blankets. You’d think he wasn’t even there. Creepy fuck’s like a ghost or something.”

 

The woman’s mouth hangs open in thought, and the other men just nod their heads. The Plump One man takes a turn. “Yeah, his bunk is underneath mine as well. He’s never said a word to any of us.”

 

“Creepy for sure…” The woman looks utterly disgusted.

 

I tune the rest of their gossip out, focusing on the facts. Michael isn’t sleeping? If he rarely sleeps, than his surprise after awakening from his nap in my room the other evening makes sense. Perhaps I should ask him? _No fucking way._ And what? Tell him that some fuckheads he doesn’t even know are talking shit about him? I’ll pass.

 

I stand abruptly and clear my tray. I can see the group suddenly looking nervous and avoiding looking my way. They must have realized I was sitting close by. Regardless, I need to move on. I wash my hands twice and head to my room to work out.

 

I refuse to use the training room, covered in the grease and dirt from countless soldiers as they trek in and out carelessly. Instead, I make use of the small floor space of my room. At least I know it’s clean to my own expectations. I do rounds of stationary strength training and cardio, and hate myself a little more every time I stop to towel off my sweat. Which is at least every two minutes. The workout provides an adequate distraction; I manage to forget about the rest of the world for a while. Unfortunately, it never lasts long enough. There’s a knock at the door.

 

“Yeah?” I swing the ratty thing open and my eyes meet the broad chest of my superior. “Erwin.”

 

I turn away and walk into the room. I never invite him, yet he always walks in regardless. I towel the back of my neck and run the cloth through the rough stubble at the back of my head. Erwin sits at my desk and watches me, menacingly. There’s a long silence, and I refuse to break it first. We lock eyes for a time.

 

Finally, he sighs. “Levi.” He crosses a leg and raises an eyebrow at me. Suddenly, I feel like a child being scolded. _Asshat._ I continue to ignore him; not daring to make assumptions until I know his reason for coming. “Your report explaining what happened during the expedition was expected yesterday. You seem distracted.” He pushes some fake concern into his voice that I dutifully overlook.

 

“If that’s all you want, it’s right here. Of course I had it finished on time, but frankly I didn’t feel like seeing that smug face of yours, so I opted not to hand it over. Take it and go.” I’ve removed the report from a desk drawer and I drop it down in front of him. When I turn away to finish toweling off my sweat, I hear his footsteps receding out the door.

 

“Take care, Levi.” The door shuts. I shower again and curse audibly at the thought of Erwin.

 

-

 

Night time comes quickly, and Michael arrives at the usual time and with his usual soft knock. We begin with little chatter, and I find myself anxious to get the lesson over with. I see his tense and tired face and compare it to his more lively expressions from this morning. I wonder why he hasn’t shown me his lighter side recently. _Has he decided against me? Did my plan to send him away upset him so much?_ I contemplate asking him casually how he’s sleeping, but decide that isn’t my place. After he’s gone, I lay in bed wondering if he’s just sitting there again; staring at the wall as I stare at my ceiling.

 

It’s aggravating how he invades my thoughts. A part of me wonders what I thought about before I met Michael. Without really thinking, or perhaps too frustrated to think, I throw off my covers and slip on a simple outfit. I softly walk down the stairs, careful not to let the aged boards creak too loudly. The barracks are separated into three large rooms, A, B, and C, which have no doors or privacy to speak of. I recall Michael being in section C, so I slip in just enough to get a view of the room in the dark. Once my eyes have adjusted, I walk steadily down the long aisle of bunks but I don’t see him, or at least I only see soundly sleeping soldiers. If Michael is awake, he isn’t here, and my suspicion is confirmed when I get to the last two bunks. The left, lower bunk is empty, and the bed next to it holds the ugly shit-face from lunch. Michael’s cot looks crisp and completely untouched, as expected.

 

After much deliberation, I decide to check outside; knowing I won’t sleep even if I return to my room now. The cool air sends a chill through me and I regret not grabbing my cloak. As I survey the area wondering where to look first, a light catches my eye in the stables. _That was easy. Not exactly subtle, Misha._

 

I approach quietly, realizing I have no idea what I actually plan to say to Michael if I find him here, awake. When I peek in, I don’t see him in the aisle but instead spot the lit candle atop a stall door. My ears don’t pick up any sounds, so I continue forward cautiously. I look into the stall and see him there, lying peacefully against his horse’s side. A weight lifts upon seeing his sleeping form. At least I know he’s resting, after all. I ignore the nagging thoughts about the dirt and mud, and _horse crap_ ; concentrating instead on his face. Like this, I recall his sleeping face atop my desk. Close enough to feel his warmth. To touch. I take a moment to drink it in before returning to my room, where I manage a bit of sleep after all.

 

-

 

The next day passes under a pile of paperwork and continued correspondence with my Underground contacts. A requested item arrives for me. That evening, I welcome Michael in the usual fashion and we get right to work. I don’t sit beside him anymore; too afraid of what I may do when my strange new emotions surface. When he sees the notes I’ve written him, he becomes visibly distracted. I watch him for a time without his noticing, but when he turns to look toward me, my eyes train themselves firmly to the work atop the desk. He doesn’t seem to be listening to me any longer, and irritation bubbles in my stomach.

 

“You okay? Getting all of this?”

 

He shifts away from me, and I add pain to the list of weird feelings going on inside. His voice is uneven when he says, “Yeah, I got it. Just a little tired, I guess. Please continue.” And now I am sure he’s upset with me somehow.

 

I can’t fight the urge to get close any longer, and I lean in just enough to quell the turmoil in my stomach. Under the guise of cleaning up, I bask in the presence while I have the chance. “Forget it. Go get some rest.” I know he needs it, even if he ends up in the stables again. My thumb caresses his spine in the most subtle way I can manage. He doesn’t seem to notice, and instead continues looking tense. He leaves promptly, and I sigh into the quiet loneliness of my room.

 

After an hour or so of staring at my ceiling again, I dress and walk downstairs to check on him. My restlessness is getting the better of me, and I hate it. The mere thought of letting someone get this close after so many years of distance is unsettling. I push the thoughts aside. _I’m just going to see if he’s alright._

 

I peek into the barracks but don’t enter. Knowing where his bunk is makes things easier; his bed is empty and so I head outside. There is no light peeking through the stable’s wooden seams. With a frustrated grunt I decide to walk along the main pathway that leads around Headquarters. The quiet is calming, yet every time my insides settle I begin to think of Michael again; igniting the fires over and over.

 

As I round the corner of the small secondary building, home to the female barracks and showers, I hear voices. Sliding behind a nearby tree, I quickly locate the source. I can see Michael sitting on a bench about fifteen yards away with his new best friend beside him. I can’t make out the words but the atmosphere is worrisome. They both wear a serious expression, and I watch as Michael’s hand reaches out to rest on the boy’s shoulder. My stomach tightens and the warm fire from earlier has turned ice cold. When the boy’s hand meets Michael’s as well, it starts doing flips. Angry, murderous flips.

 

They talk quietly for another moment. Much to my relief their hands separate and they are no longer touching. My own hand twitches at my side, ready to slap myself for lowering my standards to skulking through the shadows; spying like this. I can’t look away, however, as I watch the boy’s face change from sad to hopeful. His cheeks turn a pink color that makes me cringe. He slides closer to Michael on the bench and before I can tear my eyes away it is too late. They kiss. And it’s a _hot_ , _passionate kiss_ that makes me sick to my stomach.

 

It was easy to deny my feelings up until this point. Did I like Michael? Of course not, we’ve just met and I have little time for those thoughts. Did he make my stomach turn every time I thought about him? Sure. Did my skin burn in places he’s touched long after he’s gone? Yeah, alright. Did I love the way his complex emotions showed on his face in the privacy of my room every night? _Fuck, I did!_

 

Did I like Michael? Did I want to storm over to that bench and shove that little shithead off of him, replacing his tongue with my own so that _I_ was the one making Michael’s face blush?

 

_Absolutely._

 

Before I subject myself to any further torture or go on a murderous rampage, I turn and walk briskly back to the main building. I storm up the stairs, no longer caring who hears me and my old floorboards, and slam my door behind me when I reach my quarters. I don’t even think of sleeping that night.

 

-

 

When the next morning comes, I am showered and dressed before anyone seems to have stirred. When I check section C of the barracks, Michael is laying atop the sheets on his cot, poised on his side and facing the wall. I can only assume he’s pretending to sleep, for when I walk over to stand beside him there is no movement and no sound of heavy breathing that comes with real rest. I slap him on the back. “Oi. Get up.” My voice is cold. So cold, in fact, that no less than three soldiers in the immediate area jolt up at the command. I scoff at them and wave a hand so that they lay back down without a fuss. Michael slowly rolls towards me, and his act is hardly believable when he sits up and yawns.

 

“What is it, Le-… heichou?” He looks at me, bewildered.

 

“Get dressed. We’re going somewhere.” I turn and walk out, leaving him no time for questions or arguments.


	3. Glossy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is meant to be read after chapter 14, [Wild Eyes; Wild Heart](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1486378/chapters/7950453).

**Glossy**

_Michael_

Swirly, twirly; the universe is dancing. My body is light and fast like air.

 

The air smells sweet and sour. I follow the sour. Like a road, it leads me.

 

My fast feet hit heavily on the grey ground. Everything is grey until the sour smell leads me to _them_.

 

The grey swirly background fades until I only see _them_ ; the sharply outlined pink orange red yellow pale light GIANTS looking **bold** and annoying. Just seeing them hurts my eyes so I hurt them back until they leave.

 

The vibrations in the air come from behind me. They smell sweet and look grey-swirly so I leave them.

 

So _hot._ Like fire. I run but the wind isn’t cooling; it’s suffocating. The sour smell keeps leading me. Tall walls. Dark caves. There’s a smelly air here but no GIANTS. Need to hunt. Need to _hurt_.

 

I find a light and chase it.

 

Head… _hurts_. Pain. Hot liquid. It pours from me but smells sweet. Not important. New GIANT. _Kill_ kill _kill._ I hurt it and make it gone.

 

A sweet vibration behind me. This one’s stronger than the others. Does it speak? It looks a little pink but mostly grey-swirly so I ask the fast moving blue-thing to help and it carries me to the sours that I like to play with.

 

The more that leave the sweeter the air smells. I like the sweet. We need to kill the angry GIANTS so that I can breathe.

 

Lungs _burn_. Nose _burns_. Still hot like fire and taste like smoke.

 

The GIANT is gone but there are still vibrations. I turn, towering, trailing my tasting tongue.

_Leave_.

 

They are red **red** and smell sweet-sour so my nose feels sick and I want to cry. _What are you_ , a strange creature who is not GIANT or **bold** or sour but many things and I want to _hurt_ but I don’t want to _kill_ do **not** leave but do not come _closer_

 

stay f a r a w a y where i can think no do not come clsr i can not i will not i will

_hurt again_

 

it hurts

 

again

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Michael is 'seeing' humans in greyscale, animals in cool tones, and enemies in warm tones. I say 'seeing' because for the most part he is taking in information using scent and vibrations (much like a snake).


	4. Commander

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A snippet of Erwin's point of view.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This snippet comes after [Chapter 15](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1486378/chapters/8078319) of WC.

**Chapter 15.5 - Commander**

_Erwin_

I first became suspicious of Levi’s activity years ago. It wasn’t long after he’d reluctantly joined us, and although he was a Captain, he held firmly onto his reservations. He was constantly giving me attitude; even more so than he does now, if you can believe it. Regardless, I knew he had a spark within him that I could utilize. _Doubtless that very spark is what’s to blame for his secrecy_.

 

We were on an expedition, and things were going quite mundanely. I had lead my troops miles into the fray and I was preparing for the next phase when word reached me that Levi, my temperamental Corporal, had abandoned his post and ridden in an unauthorized direction. My messengers were worried, knowing full well that Levi was still a bit of a loose cannon, but I had my faith. When he did not return that evening, I could hear the questions floating through the ranks. Even Hanji had approached me uncertainly that evening before we had all turned in for the night. I admit my faith faltered there as I lay and try to sleep.

 

The next day he had of course arrived safely, causing a stir with a fashionably late entrance. The suspicious part was the appearance of his new companion. Surely a Commander couldn’t possibly memorize every face of his many soldiers, but I knew well enough to observe that this man hadn’t once set foot in our Headquarters before. I was amused at first, thinking Levi had brought an Underground friend or perhaps one of his old gang rats in an attempt to stage a resistance. His report was expertly scribed and he gave no indication that anything unusual had happened, and the soldiers who had returned with him made it clear that the man had appeared alongside Levi while outside of the Walls. I couldn’t find an opportunity in which he could have snuck in an extra person. When Levi continued to obey me, no matter how reluctantly, I decided I would wait and see where it went.

 

Their late-night rendezvous would have only made me more suspicious if not for Levi’s adamancies in ignoring me in favor of watching the new comer like a fragile child. I began to suspect this person was much more to Levi than an old contact. He didn’t look to him as an ally keeping watch, but as a protective family member. It was strange.

 

My mind was quickly distracted with the upcoming Inductee Ceremony, and the many reports and files piled atop my desk only increased the pressure. When I found a moment to look back to Levi’s activity again, the man was suddenly gone. Of course, I quickly caught on to Levi’s informants, sneaking messages in during the night. It was difficult to picture betrayal in Levi, after I’d worked to gain his trust, but I could not rule it out. I kept watch on him but saw no other suspicious activity save for his monthly messages from the shadows. Those letters could have contained anything, however, and it did little good to idle over them with no guilty action.

 

Years passed and I soon forgot the issue altogether. My Captains were all performing marvelously, and Levi was an outstanding soldier. It didn’t take long for me to cave to his requests. An upgrade to a room on the top floor, equipped with it’s own small bathroom. Permission to take breakfast in his room each day, under the condition he has his other two meals in the Hall. He assembled a squad of his own design, and they quickly became our strongest asset; though his true purpose in bringing them together remains unknown to me to this day.

 

Then, as it does every year, the Inductee Ceremony arrived once again. Among the soldiers ready to lay their lives before me stood a man who stirred my memory. Somewhere, I had seen him before. Unable to let it go, I had even approached him for a conversation in the hopes of sparking a memory. The feeling nagged at me for _days_ before it finally came together! _Levi_. His face had practically gone green when I said Michael’s name during that meeting. Was it fear of drawing attention to a plot? Was it anger? I was quite intrigued. I deliberately sent Levi to fetch the man and watched them closely. Then as he had sat before me and answered my questions, I could see it. Somewhere between the two of them, in the glances they allowed and the ones they ignored, there was something more. Once Michael had gotten to the motive of the crime, Levi’s murderous aura was palpable.

 

As we sat in an attempt to choose a suitable punishment, he was livid. Whatever we chose was either too much for Michael, or not enough for the other man. If it were up to Levi, Michael would have walked free and the other wouldn’t ever leave the hospital bed. If fact, I’m positive Levi had snuck away to visit the guilty party on his own. I certainly wasn’t the one to force him into apologizing; in front of the entire Corps, no less.

 

Now, looking back at all of this I can see it. That yes, there was something very strange happening, but the strangest thing of all was Levi. The man I’d never imagined to care for anyone as more than a friend was staring at Mr. Trillo with heated eyes and flushed cheeks at any opportunity he thought no one was looking. It was marvelous! As word made it to me that the two of them had left formation and gone out of the forest, I knew I just had to witness this for myself. Word had it that Michael had gone crazy and I pictured Levi chasing him down like a heartbroken lover.

 

If only I could have guessed! That’s practically what I found. Here he was, standing with such a forlorn look in his eyes at the edge of a blade. Luckily I thought to bring a distraction; a little _test_ to see just what kind of crazy the man is. I am not disappointed in either of them as I see Michael’s incredible talent take down this beast. Levi is itching to help, but I have to keep him out of it. He hates me for it, I can see, but without our strongest soldier interfering I am able to assess Michael’s strength accurately. It rivals Levi’s own, and it’s unbelievable. The man is a beast and I have the overwhelming urge to tame him!

 

I decide not to question the Captain too harshly just yet. I can piece things together well enough on my own, and now is not the time. Regardless, I can’t wait to hear just what has happened under my nose all this time. It’s sure to be entertaining, at the least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It isn't much, but I hope it's enjoyable! Just so everyone knows that Levi HASN'T actually been 'getting away' with anything this whole time, just that Erwin likes to bide his time.


	5. While You Were Gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The weeks drag on while Levi is away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick halfie while I work on the things to come! This is meant to be read after [Chapter 19](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1486378/chapters/8763457) of the main story!

**Chapter 19.5**

_Michael_

Kip and I walk the gravel path around the compound; knowing the route we will take without speaking from the weeks of repetition. Since Levi’s departure, he’s taken to shadowing me almost everywhere and I’ve yet to figure out his motive. Awaiting me at my breakfast table: Kip; spotting me during weightlifting in the training room: Kip; helping me muck stables or scrub laundry: Kip. The way he looks at me is reminiscent of years ago, but looks less like adoration and more like friendly admiration. At least, I hope.

 

I can tell now that he wants to bring it up; the thing he thinks I won’t talk about. It isn’t that I won’t, It’s just that everyone is walking on eggshells so it never comes up. Levi.

 

“Have you heard anything?” He finally says as we duck under a low-hanging branch in our path.

 

I give a small smile to let him know I don’t mind. “No. Erwin says we must all be patient and keep faith. As if I could be patient.” The gravel scrapes underfoot in the long silence that follows.

 

“You know…” He begins. “It’s _Commander_ Erwin to the rest of us, remember?” His elbow shoves my side playfully. “You too much of a big shot now for that?” He’s smiling, but I can see a bit of something negative swimming underneath. Ever since my very surprising and rushed promotion, Kip has seemed a bit strange; perhaps jealous. I’ve thought about asking for permission to fill him in on the whole situation, but the time just hasn’t seemed right. When Levi returns, it could very well change the entire situation, and so it is best to wait. The hardest part is hiding my guilt for lying every time Kip tries to ask me about my ‘secret mission’, or why I came back as a ‘new’ recruit.

 

We round the final corner that will lead us back towards the main entrance where we will grab lunch together, just the two of us. At some point in my time away, Kip’s best friend John was lost to the Titans. It changed him, and he is lonelier now despite his popularity. There’s a seriousness hiding underneath all of his jovial banter that makes me sad for him. As we grab our trays and head to the table, however, his large smile is beaming at an approaching person.

 

“Oh, shit.” I attempt to hide behind his broad shoulders, but realize too late that anyone who knows us would know I’d be with Kip. Hanji’s large hand waves at me from around Kip’s arm, forcing me to reveal myself. “What do you want, Hanji?” My obvious displeasure doesn’t pierce the smiling Officer at all.

 

“Miiichaaaeeelll!” A lanky arm slaps down around my neck and pulls me close. “I’ve got some _great_ new ideas for our hang-out later! I’ll need you to bring a few things….” I allow my mind to wander as Hanji spits out an odd list of items I plan to ‘forget’ later, as when I did comply to the strange requests it only landed me in even more annoying situations. Kip watches us with a small amused smile, looking left-out and pretending he’s not listening. As I wave Hanji away, Kip takes our trays and sits down.

 

“Sorry about that…” I begin eating quickly to avoid his stare, but he persists all the way through my meat and half of my greens. “What?”

 

“Are you…” He sighs, “Are you ever going to tell me what it is that you and Hanji are always doing after lunch?” I put down my fork and regard him with my best guilt-laden puppy-dog eyes.

 

“ _Kippaaa_ , you _know_ I can’t tell yoouu-“

 

“I know, I know! Super-secret-leader-y things that us _lowly peasants_ aren’t allowed to know about.” My attempt at being cute has been smacked down, so I return to eating as if nothing has happened. Minutes later, when we’ve almost finished, I feel the toe of his boot come to rest on my chair, right between my legs. I give him a wary stare. “One of these days, Michael, you’ll tell me. You and Levi and Hanji- hell, even Erwin, are all up to something. I want in.” His boot slides back to the floor with a soft thud.

 

I look at my tray while I think, noticing that he hasn’t touched my bread yet as he normally would. I pick it up and tear it in half, taking a bite out of my half and extending the other to him. His surprise is obvious but he takes it anyway. “Did I ever tell you why I don’t eat my bread, Kip?”

 

His tone is stuck between amusement and annoyance, but he bites down on it violently. “Don’t change the subject, Trillo.”

 

“I’m not… not really. Did I?”

 

“No.”

 

“Well, when I was young… I saw one of my neighbors get murdered. Well, almost. I saw her body. She owned the local bakery, and her blood had gotten all over the bread stall she had set up on the street. The baguettes, bagels, muffins- all of it. Ever since then, I haven’t been able to stomach anything that comes out of a bakery.” I finish the last bite of my half-roll, but what is left of Kip’s hangs still in his mouth. “You’ve probably heard about my… episode… on the last expedition, which you missed. Sometimes whenever I see violence, I go a little crazy, I guess. Levi, Erwin, and Hanji, have been helping me to figure out why, and how I can improve. As you can see, I am indeed getting better.” I motion to my empty tray and watch his expression cycle through things like pity and understanding. Things I don’t care to have, but may help me get him to stop asking questions. “There is more going on than that, yes, but that’s all I can tell you right now. I promise, when I can tell you more, _I will._ ” He finishes his bread and nods at me, looking pensive for the rest of the meal.

 

-

 

Hanji waits for me on horseback outside of the ‘experiment building’, which is really just an old abandoned barn far off in one of the fields surrounding our headquarters. It’s empty inside except for one long table cluttered with random instruments and notebooks, and a few chairs. I am waved inside after tying up my horse and shoved into a seat at the center of the open space.

 

With notebook in hand, the questioning begins. “How much did you eat today? Was your food hot, or cold? How much have you had to drink? Do you find yourself sweating any more than usual after a meal? How are you sleeping?” As well as many others I have answered time and time again. Hanji seems to believe that I posses some Titan-like qualities, but I disagree. Last week, I was made to fast for three days straight with only water to drink. This week, Hanji seems to be seeing if it’s effected me in the long-term.

 

After the questions have stopped, Hanji asks for my permission to restrain me. Although I am surprised, I give my consent and remove my shirt when prompted. With the help of a squad member, my hands are tied behind the chair tightly and my ankles are attached to each wooden leg.

 

Years ago the touching would have bothered me. There was a point where I flinched at most contact, after the years of being away from people. I recall how Levi's was the only touch I wanted, and now how much I need it.

 

“Now,” A long dagger glints in Hanji’s slender fingers, “I am going to cut you, Michael. I will cut you five times, each of varying depth and length. Don’t worry! My medic here will make sure everything is fine!” The nervous-looking medic nearby does not serve to abolish my worries. _I knew what I was signing up for… didn’t I?_ I knew Hanji would want to perform all sorts of experiments, and I also know that Hanji would never really hurt me. With a resigned nod of my head, we begin.

 

The first slice is short, sweet, and hardly felt. I let out a sigh and smile a bit with relief.

 

The second stings and is twice the length. My mouth sits in a tight line, but I say nothing.

 

The third is the type of pain that starts to resonate outside of the actual cut. I grunt.

 

The fourth, I feel deep down. It is still more like a sting, that drags out along my skin but echoes the same sting in my gut uncomfortably. I let out a pained gasp, and Hanji looks worried but determined; jotting down notes while the medic wipes up the dripping blood.

 

The fifth is almost a relief. Not because it doesn’t hurt- my _God_ , does it hurt- but because I know it is over. My arms pull against their ropes instinctively, and it is good that they cannot lash out at my surroundings. The pain of the last cut immediately takes away the pain its predecessors, so I tighten my muscles and fight against the first waves of agony until it has settled into numb discomfort.

 

With my wounds cleaned and bandaged, I stand tentatively. The row of varying cuts lay across my chest and abdomen. “How exactly am I supposed to explain this to the others?” I button up my shirt quickly, hoping to discourage any further activities.

 

“Oh, just don’t let them see you! Also, you better not do anything strenuous to open them up!” Hanji really does look worried, and even guilty, but I am honestly not that bothered and so I give my best friendly smile to the soldiers around me.

 

“Hanji… I’m a _soldier_ , everything I do is strenuous!”

 

They chuckle nervously while Hanji only nods happily. “Let’s just be glad Levi isn’t around to _really_ make it strenuous!” I feel my cheeks go hot and watch Hanji’s eyebrows wiggle around suggestively.

 

After a few long minutes of assuring Hanji that Levi and I _aren’t_ doing _those things_ , we get back to work: questions, physical examinations, intelligence tests, etcetera.

 

At the end of the day, all I can think about is how guilty I feel when keeping things from Kip; how worried I feel about what Hanji’s experiments may reveal; and how long it will be until Levi returns to me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next, read Levi's time away [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1548149/chapters/9108427), or proceed to chapter 20 [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1486378/chapters/9008605)!


	6. No Regrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Levi makes his choice with no regrets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This 1/2 chapter goes between [Chapter 19](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1486378/chapters/8763457) and [Chapter 20](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1486378/chapters/9008605).

**Chapter 19.75**

_Levi_

The journey to the Capital was full of sweat and thirst. When we finally trudged through the last gates and into the new scenery, the collective sigh we heaved was a weight lifted. Of course, the relief was short-lived as we quickly moved on to the underground; full of unending filth and a permanent fog of stench much worse than our own sweaty group. The first few nights are uneventful. I run into a few recognizable faces who are sure to ignore me and move on as if they are suddenly quite busy, and ignore them in turn. The street rats scurry at the horse’s hooves in a regretfully familiar pattern.

 

Auruo continuously glances at me curiously, which would be annoying if I didn’t have more irritating things on my mind. Erd and Gunther remain quiet through the journey. Petra’s glances match Auruo’s, only are much more concerned than anything. I ignore it all until we settle in. Auruo complains loudly at the state of the town before he and Petra begin whispering to one another heatedly, huddled in the small alley corner where we’ve made our nightly fire. I tune them out and stare into the flickering flames warming the half of my body not pressed to the cold stone wall.

 

“Doing alright?” Gunther slides down the wall beside me with a serious expression.

 

“Yeah. Fine.”

 

He doesn’t look convinced, but turns his gaze onto the fire as well. “It’s gonna be a long one, huh? You seem a bit out of it, though.”

 

He’s right, of course. The memories the Underground bring about are dragging me down; reminding me of old attachments I had thought to be done with. Since the first moment we stepped into this hellish place, I can only recall the faces of my lost friends. Isabel, who had once stormed my stubborn heart with her whirlwind of energy. Farlan, who became my brotherly conscience whom I was grateful for; even if I often ignored his advice. The reminders of them were all around me now.

 

“It’s this place.” He nods, understanding. “I’ll be fine.” He nods again.

 

“As long as we can do our mission quickly, right?” His hand squeezes my shoulder before he moves on to break up Petra and Auruo’s impending fight. Erd watches us all from his place across the fire in silence.

 

Eventually everyone is calming down to rest although it is only late afternoon. I know that I should follow suit and sleep some before we spend the entire night skulking, but my mind simply will not quiet. My squad, my team; dare I even call them friends, only to one day lose them as well? Will it be due to my own carelessness, again? All I ever wanted was to carve out a life for my gang, and yet here I am trying to carve a life for myself and Michael; their existence but a memory within me. Eventually, my eyes are too tired to fight and fall closed.

 

It took days to find the first real lead into a tunnel, tucked behind a boarded up ruinous building and disguised as an abandoned basement. We almost would have missed it if not for the whistling of wind over the large opening, loud enough to hear from the small street we traveled. Days later, again, and we had mapped that tunnel straight to its end, before doubling back and mapping the smaller tunnels coming off of it. The progress was slow with our frequent need to resupply ourselves with lasting foods and clean water. There was an obvious lack of such provisions below ground.

 

I wasn’t surprised to find that our theories were true, and Erwin’s response to my initial letters said the same. We were clearly on their trail, even if it had gone cold years ago. I stare now at one of our hand-drawn maps in a newly discovered tunnel, miles away from that first one. My horse walks at a slow pace, huffing at the dirt in a hopeless search for something edible. As we mark off what feels like the thousandth dead end, I can only sigh with frustration.

 

_Michael, are you missing me?_

 

The thought surprises me despite my acceptance of these newfound feelings. It is that moment I realize that this heaviness in my chest is _me_ missing _him_. His presence in my bed at night that makes me sweat uncomfortably; the way he talks animatedly when telling me about even the most boring things in his day; and even the constant hints at his perverted intensions I’ve exceeded at shutting down.

 

On the night of our second week in the Underground, we find what _has_ to be the main tunnel. It’s unoriginally placed near the center of the cluster-fuck of a town, but well hidden behind a slew of inconspicuous doors in an old building. The place is surprisingly still in use; occupied by small gangs running sketchy businesses out of the many vast rooms. We have to sneak through each room and pretend to be dealing in the bids and games to investigate, until we finally reach the depths of the building that aren’t frequented by anyone. The place is so run-down and filthy that even the street kids won’t hide here. In that bleak environment, the large and nearly perfect steel doors stands out easily, even from behind the odd pile of junk placed conveniently in front of them. They are dusty with abandonment, but there are no dents or scratches; not even a red hint of rust. _Bingo_.

 

Two weeks later, we have mapped the tendrils to their ends, but the main hall just keeps going and going; heading West for days and curving North. We get to a point where the supplies we can carry there and back can get us no farther, having no supply cart or extra horses. It is then that I send word to Erwin that we will be returning after a day of rest and resupply.

 

Our last day goes slowly, and we all agree to go our separate ways for the time being. I have no desire to revisit any of my old haunts, and so I retreat instead back to the cluster of buildings where we first found a tunnel. On the rooftop there, I find my mind wandering again to Isabel, Farlan, Petra, Auruo, Gunther, Eld, and Michael. What do they all have in common? A place close to me. In what ways are they different? Some of them can no longer be _physically_ close to me.

 

I sigh. In a few more days I will face Michael, and it will be up to me to finally make my feelings clear to him. The subject has been a hard one for me, the soldier who doesn’t grow attached. Not since _they_ died. Not since I made that regretful choice.

 

If I allow Michael to be such a part of my life, I have to make it count. _We have both lived harshly, and lost. He is a survivor._ I know that I can trust myself to like him: someone who won’t die and leave me so easily. His bright eyes and easy smile pervade my thoughts relentlessly until the sun goes down, and I make a new choice.

 

I will stop pushing Michael away. I will let him know how I am really feeling. I will not regret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are reading these in order, proceed on to [chapter 20](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1486378/chapters/9008605)!


	7. Strengths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of chapter 23 from Levi's POV, as well as a bit of what's going on in his mind.

**Strengths**

 

_Levi_

 

His hands on my skin, his lips over my lips, his hair between my fingers. Every thought I can formulate formulates into _him_. Michael, my Misha, the near-boy I'd met impossibly beyond the walls years ago. He is now a man and he is now _mine_ and he is beneath me, gasping and sighing my name like it's the only word he knows. I can't believe I waited this long. Why did I _wait_ this _long_?

 

I knew the first moment I had him alone my room that I wanted him, on some level. It was an odd attraction for me; being so closed off and skeptical of every face I meet. I should have locked him away in a cage somewhere, if I had been thinking clearly. But I never am when he is around, am I? Something about his ability to switch instantly from the naive and playful child to stern and powerful soldier caught me off-guard and open; waiting for him to catch me.

 

He has me caught even now, despite my tight grip on his wrists and hair. Every inch of skin is an enticing trap that I am happy to stumble over. I pull his head back and nip at his neck, trailing kisses down his collarbone.

 

This is very new territory for me. I have rejected more advances than I have accepted, and within those few allotments I rarely allowed the events to go too far. All in all, I would say I have only had sex a handful of times; and only with women. The thought of being with men had occurred to me in a small part of my mind. It was fleeting and small; the nonchalant _“What if?”_ that I am sure many people have at some point in their life. It was a thought I easily threw aside, never finding any man who honestly caught my interest in that way. But then, there was Michael.

 

The one _person_ in the world strong enough to equal me. It didn’t matter the gender; I was immediately drawn to the person whom I could depend on, if even for a moment. Perhaps that was the very reason that I put up with Erwin so much, but it didn’t take long for me to see that he was somehow not a match. We are both strong, but in different ways that never fit together in the right ways. Michael had this strength even in his eyes; even when he was crying like a child and having mental episodes in the middle of the night, in my room. He had been through hell and yet he never gave up. Giving in to the grief on occasion never made him weak. If anything, it made him stronger to look back on those tears. A part of me envied his ability to express so much of himself and still remain strong. That very strength I can still feel now underneath me, radiating from his skin even as his bones turn to jelly beneath my working lips.

 

Our radiating strengths, I realize now, are very much like the poles of a magnet. No matter how many times I pull my body away to get a look at him, I find myself folding around his beautiful nudity tightly.

 

I watch his lips work at my cock and can’t help but grip his hair. I move him with command because I know that he will enjoy it. Secretly, however, he is absolutely in control. I don’t think he even knows it, that he could command me just as well. If he asked me to trade places now, my knees would connect with that floor just as fast. I’d allow him to spread me open and enter me, even if my pride wouldn’t let me show him my face while he did it. Being with Michael is confusing in the sense that we are always equal and yet we are always fighting for dominance. I have never felt pressure to control him fully, because we think very similarly. In the same way, I could control him easily because of our mutual trust for one another. This eternal battle within us is fire-igniting and madness-inducing.

 

I have never felt so alive or so accepted as I do when I slip inside him. Never have any of my partners felt so perfect or sounded so musical at our connection. When Misha says _I love you,_ I fight not to say _I obsess over you_. All of the things I have failed to tell or show him haunt me. I just hope that he feels it in the lusty thrusts of my hips. I hope he sees the hunger in my eyes as I move his body just the way I like it and drink in every sight he allows me to see. The tightness around my cock and the pleasing pain of the coming orgasm somehow mirror the ache in my heart. Everything is so new when it comes to Misha that I can’t comprehend it, and tonight I decided to stop trying.

 

Storming into my room in frustration surely hurt him. I had so many things to think over. In the end, this was all I could come around to. I threw myself into scrubbing every inch of my room to help me sort out my thoughts, and in the end it was only Michael and floor polish that I could see.

 

Misha’s moaning as his own cum spills over his abs is most likely my new favorite sight, despite how filthy it is. I quickly come inside him, and strangely that part doesn’t bother me. In that moment it is just like I have felt inside; we are two halves that never knew how we needed the other until we slotted together into a complete being.

 

This feeling never changed, no matter how many times we made love or who was inside whom.


End file.
